Destiel Drabble Collection
by crovvley
Summary: A small collection of Destiel stories. Feel free to send in requests!
1. A Furry Story

"Dean, I want a cat."

Castiel's request rose above the noise of the not-so-well-functioning air conditioner. The thing had broken three times that week, leaving him and Dean in a miserable state of intense and sweaty heat in the bunker. It was hot as hell outside,and one would think the bunker would be complete with ac or some other cooling system, but, it was not.

Dean stirred from his spot on the couch, leaning over to look at Cas, who was currently lounging in a reclining chair, a book in his lap. "What, a cat? Seriously _that''s _what you're thinking about right now?"

Cas shrugged. "Yes. It gets lonely when you and Sam are not here."

"Buy a goldfish." Dean's voice was muffled when he stuffed his face into a couch cushion.

"I don't think fish would provide the same kind of company and companionship a cat would,

Dean." Castiel objected.

Dean sighed. "You know I hate pets, Cas."

Even though Dean couldn't see him, he knew that Cas was pulling off his puppy dog eye face.

"But _Dean, _I've always wanted one."

"Too bad." Dean grunted, clearly trying to end the conversation.

Cas was quiet until about two hours, the two barely even switching positions for the entirety of the time. "Dean I'm getting a cat." He stated.

"_No we're not, Cas._" Dean groaned.

Cas continued with his pleading. "I promise, Dean, I'll take care of it and everything and you won't have to do anything to provide for it."

"I'm allergic."

"No you're not, Dean."

A moment later a pillow flew across the room, just barely missing Cas.  
Dean made one final statement. "No cats. No dogs. No pets. Okay? Honestly Cas, we just can't have one. We move around too much and can't just leave it here in the bunker."

Castiel was silent again, and didn't bring it up directly.

But that didn't stop him from looking at Dean with wide pleading eyes every time they drove past an animal shelter or pet store. It didn't stop the guy from asking Sam questions about caring for a pet or constantly pointing out stray cats they ran across on hunts. Dean grew annoyed whenever Cas did so, and would shoot him a pointed glare that would be greeted with an innocent stare. Sam, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice and would happily answer any cat-related questions Cas had.

Dean snapped after the three of them went on a normal vengeful spirit hunt, and Castiel had been especially obnoxious.

Him and Cas went to question a woman whose daughter had been killed a week ago, and naturally, she had _at least _fifteen cats. Castiel had a freakin' field day. While still keeping his composure, Castiel just _had _to pet every cat that came up to him and his face lit up every time one of the creatures approached him. Of course, these events included an all too purposeful look in Dean's direction. Dean would reply with an eyeroll, then continue on with the investigation.

"That lady was very nice, Dean." Cas had reported after they left the cat lady's house.  
Dean snorted. "You mean, her _cats _were very nice. You were hardly even paying attention to her."

They opened the doors to the Impala and slid in, the engine roaring to life after Dean stuck the keys in the ignition. The hunter spoke before Cas could. "My answer's still no, Cas. No cats."  
Castiel slumped in his seat for the entirety of the ride.

Of course, there just _had _to be a pet shelter in the town.

Dean was going to drive right on past it, pretending it didn't exist, when Cas just _had _to point it out. Dean would have drove right on past it if Sam wasn't in the car. "Come on, Dean, let's just visit it. As a small break. We don't have to get anything."

Giving up, Dean turned harshly into the parking lot, mumbling under his breath. "We're _not _getting anything." He repeated, making it clear.  
Castiel nodded enthusiastically, practically sprinting out of the car and bouncing on his heels like a five year old. Un-admittingly, Dean did think that was kinda cute, and tried his best to hide the small smile spreading onto his lips.

Castiel went straight to the cats. No surprise there. Sam smiled at him as he poked his finger into their cage and gazed at the creatures curiously. Dean tried his best to remain unamused, and stood stoic in the corner with his arms crossed. Eventually Sam grew bored of the felines and decided that he'd go to the kennels and play with the dogs. This left Dean and Cas alone in the room. Normally, this would have made the older Winchester uncomfortable, but at the moment Castiel was too intrigued with the cats to even pay attention to the hunter. He seemed especially interested in one cat with a bottom cage in the far right corner.

"Dean, this cat reminds me of you." Cas stated, pulling his finger back from a sandy brown cat who had been swatting his paw at Cas's hand.  
Dean rolled his eyes then made his way over to the cage, bending down to get a look at the cat.

Bright green eyes greeted him back, an almost playful gleam glinting in them. He stuck out his paw and swat in Dean's general area, and the hunter had to stop himself from reaching a hand out and petting the cat. He cleared his throat the stood up. "Real cute, Cas. We still can't get him."

Castiel frowned, but didn't press forward.

After the shelter, opportunities for Castiel to bring up owning a cat popped up everywhere. When their hunt ended in them saving some unlucky felines from the ghost they had been hunting, that decided it. Dean was going to buy one of the damn things.

Once they returned to the bunker, Dean went out to the nearest shelter he could find and looked around a bit. The shelter definitely hadn't been nearly as nice as the one they had visited on the hunt, and Dean almost felt proud about rescuing one of the animals from that stinkhole. First he had found a kitten that he had _really _wanted. It had been a calico cat with no tail (a manx, the enthusiastic women at the counter had informed Dean), but Dean quickly figured that a kitten really would not be a good idea to drag around or leave at the bunker and left it behind. He quickly found another cat that suited fit, and filled out the paperwork, actually bought the cat, then left the shelter. Using a good majority of the money they had gotten from the hunt (it was a rare occasion where the women insisted in repaying them, not that they complained), Dean went out to petsmart and bought the necessities for the cat. The shelter had already given him a cage, so Dean just had to get some food, litter, and a few toys for Axl (no he had not named the cat, but then again he _got _the cat so he should be able to name him...right?).

Dean tried his best to look annoyed when he brought the cage into the bunker, but secretly he was dying to see what Cas's reaction would be. His brother and Cas were both in the living room area when Dean waltzed in. He set the carrier onto the coffee table, and both of the men looked at him with quizzical expressions.

"Got you a little something, Cas." Dean fell down into the only free chair, watching Cas with interest as he slowly unlatched the cage door.

Castiel's face broke into the most uncontrollable smile when a black furred head poked out. The cat crawled into Cas's lap, blue gleaming eyes staring up curiously.  
"Dean, I didn't think-"

Dean cut him off. "Don't thank me. His name's, uh, Axl, by the way." He suddenly sunk into his seat, tearing his gaze away from the sight. "He reminded me of you."

Castiel blinked at Dean, and Sam cleared his throat, aiming to end the awkward silence that had overtook the room. This caused an adoring conversation about the Axl to take hold, both Sam and Dean standing up to praise the new pet. The brothers negotiated how they'd take care of him, and worked out they could bring the cat with them or leave Kevin to watch over it. Eventually the black cat leaped out of Cas's lap and began to explore the bunker on it's own. The excitement in the room died down, and Castiel gave Dean a present of his own. Dean was just about to exit the room, when Cas engulfed him in a hug. Dean was taken back from surprise, but hugged him back.

"Thank you, Dean." Cas said.  
Dean smiled back at him. "No problem, Cas."  
Perhaps this whole cat thing really wasn't that bad after all.

* * *

_Author's note; _I know it's really short, but I wrote it for a tumblr user that had requested some fluff and with he fact I was writing this in my living room with family, I couldn't get above the pg (or teen, I guess) rating. So hope you enjoyed the ficlet! ^-^


	2. Good Times Bad Times

Dean tried his best not to look absolutely terrified as they stood in line for the 310 feet, 93mph ride. He was able to collect his calm exterior and leaned against the hot metal railing, hoping that the burning sensation rubbing against his skin would distract him from the very real fear towering about thirty minutes away from him. Why the _hell _did he ever think this was a good idea? Well, technically it hadn't been his idea, it was Sam's. They had been on a hunt (something about clowns) and this place, 'Cedar Point', was the investigation zone. With Sam's well known fear of the colorful painted face men, he sent his brother and Cas off to the amusement park with one hundred bucks. Dean was starting to wonder if Sam had done this just because he was well aware of Dean's paranoia or heights, which Dean still refused to admit was an actual fear of his.

Dean had shivered when he read the information about the ride. 310 feet. 93 miles per hour.

On the other hand, Cas looked like he was made purely of excitement. Every so often he'd ask Dean when he thought the wait would be over, or he'd wonder out loud about the mechanics of the coaster.

Dean just wanted to know why Cas was so excited about going on a giant metal deathtrap flying well above safe speed that could very possibly fling a person out of it or there could be an error and the ride would snap and then….  
He should probably stop thinking now.

At least this ride looked better than the first one Castiel had wanted to try out. The previous one made Dean want to throw up just by looking at it. "Uh, how about another one, Cas. The…. line's, erm, too long." Dean had been able to dismiss, even though the ride they settled on had an even longer wait time.

Why did they even have to do this? They just had to scope out the place and then they could leave, right? But no, Sam wanted them to look 'normal', he had added with a smirk at Dean's protests. The freakin bastard.

"Dean, what if the ride collapses under the weight?"  
"What if it flies off the tracks?"  
"How much longer?"  
"Dean…"  
"Dean…"  
Castiel brought Dean's fears to resurface every time he spoke. He would answer the guy, trying to tell the guy that the ride's are expertly engineered and it's pretty much impossible to die on one unless you really tried, but soon Dean was pretty sure he was talking just to reassure himself.

Soon they were in the front of the line, and Dean was wiping his sweaty palms onto his jeans. The gate was opened, and the crowd poured into the platform area. Naturally, Cas just _had _to pick the front car. Dean was far too nervous to argue. A worker appeared and secured the passengers. Metal bars came down to hold them in place. Dean's grip immediately went to the bar, holding on for dear life before it even started. _310 feet. 93mph._

The final preparations took place, and the ride was on.

It started slow enough, and Dean was pretty sure that he was in the beginning stages of having a heart attack. Cas squirmed in the seat, but otherwise appeared to be having a more enjoyable experience than the hunter.

The ride was taking _far too damn long_ to roll up the first hill.

Eventually it reached it's peak, and Dean's stomach dropped when he realized that he could see the entire park. _310 feet. 93 mile-_

The cars plummeted down in a screeching sound of wind and screams of passengers. In that moment, Dean felt absolutely weightless. And that terrified him. A small noise escaped his mouth as the ride ripped down the hill, and he squeezed his eyes shut. This only helped a bit.

_Oh god, I'm gonna die…I'm gonna die-_

Dean had completely forgotten that Cas was in the ride with him until his hand came down on his, squeezing it tightly. Dean opened his eyes to look at him, and the guy had the freaking nerve to smile at him.

Dean's thoughts about how it was illegal for someone to look so good on a goddamn roller coaster/deathtrap were interrupted when they once again plummeted to their death.

It was a bit easier that time with Castiel's hand on top of his own, but didn't stop Dean from tightly closing his eyes.

Suddenly the lights from outside went out, and Dean thought for a moment that he had died. He blinked one eye open to find they had only entered a tunnel. _Damnit._

The ride continued in more twists and turns and yet one more tunnel. The constant fear loomed over Dean throughout the entirety of it, and he was pretty sure his lip had started to bleed from how hard he had been biting down on it. Honestly, the only enjoyable part had been when Dean had snuck a peek at Cas to see the guy in a state of pure bliss. Like this was heaven for him, a smile hinting at his lips and shoulders completely at ease.

Dean was still all too thankful when it was over.

Green-faced and shaken, Dean almost fell over when he exited the coaster. The hunter covered it up with a quick smile in Cas's location, then asked him as they were ushered off the platform. "So what'd you think about it, Cas?"

"Like I was flying." Castiel admitted, looking over at Dean. "For a moment it felt like I still had my wings."

_Oh…  
_Dean flashed an awkward smile before patting him on the back. "Glad to hear so. Want to go on another?"

* * *

_Author's note: _Well, I've decided to make this a collection of small destiel (maybe sabriel) stories! Feel free to send in any requests. Also, I will take more mature plot ideas but may make a different collection for those :3


	3. Falling Asleep On A Stranger

_Do you remember me?_

A familiar man is seen from Dean's view, dressed in a tan trench coat and has a head topped with ruffled black hair. He struts through the crowd of people and _no _it _can't _be him. That would have been all too much of a coincidence. This couldn't be the same (angel) man that Dean maybe could have once loved. One of the only people he could call a friend.

It takes Dean a moment to realize it's not his imagination when the angel look a like turns around, staring in his direction. Or is he? A million emotions slam through Dean all at once. Guilt, longing, the whole twenty yards. He freezes in place, gluing himself to the ground and trying his best to not do anything stupid like walk closer. But he _has _to be looking at him. Dean can almost feel the drowning blue eyes piercing into him and _yes _he _is _looking in his direction.

_Do you remember me?_

It takes just that for every wall Dean had built to crumble down. The memories all come rushing back in flashes. Sam dying. _My fault. _The angels sacraficing themselves, while others chose an angelless humanity, _My fault. _Cas's body lying next to Dean's, an artwork of burnt out wings spread out across the warehouse floor, the wingtips scorched into Dean's chest. After two years, the marks were still there. _My fault._ Last but not least, the memory of the heated and rash kiss Dean had gave Cas moments before the angel's death. The hunter hadn't even realized what he had done until it was too late, and the taste of Cas's lips was only a lingering tribute. That had been the hardest one to bury, but it had been done after countless sleepless nights filled with the memory. How many nights _had _it been since Dean hadn't been haunted by that day and Cas's lips moving together next to his?

Maybe it was actually his imagination this time, but was that a similar look of recognition that flashed across the face of the man in the trench coat? Yes, it _was _Cas. Or, Cas's vessel. No one else could look like that and _damn _it hurt to see that face again. Dean's stomach dropped when he waved in Dean's direction.

_Do you remember me? _

No, he couldn't remember Dean. He couldn't even remember being an angel, right? Of course. That had been part of the deal, either the angels choose to sacrifice themselves, or they decide to die and be reincarnate into a human with no recollection of their previous life. Castiel chose the later. So, no, he couldn't remember Dean. He didn't remember the clash of lips as they both bled out on the cold floor and didn't know about the imprint of _his _wings that were now permanently branded into Dean's skin nor the faintly faded handprint on his arm on the opposite side. Cas was all over Dean, and he didn't even recognize him.

For a moment, Dean is about to wave back until a woman with dirty brown hair runs forward and rushes into Cas's arms. They embrace and share a quick kiss. Dean is already far too numb to feel his heart snap apart even more. He decides it's just his mind screwing with him when he feels Cas's (or whoever he is now) eyes dart back to him. Dean turns his back and heads off in the opposite direction, already working on erasing the event in his mind. He'd gotten quite good at doing so the past two years and has lived by the law 'drink to forget.' Even though alcohol does nothing to him anymore. Ever since he turned demon, a pack of beer would give him a slight buzz. If he's lucky. Which is why he turned back to hunting. It was his coping method to forget everything and everyone and focus on nothing but the hunt. Not to mention the thrill of killing would almost always give Dean the necessary buzz he now always craved.

When Dean encountered the vampire's nest he had been tracking down, it had been particularly bloody. He'd spent the entire night relishing in the adrenaline and excitement and tried not to notice that thoughts of Cas and the woman that kept floating back up. That was the problem with the mark of Cain, he could still fucking feel. Dean could feel the pain when his brother was gone for real and could still resent himself and everything he'd ever done. Demons didn't particularly need sleep either, but Dean always enjoyed being able to slip out of conciseness, even if that did mean very vivid night mares. The next night, Dean fell asleep to the image of brilliant blue eyes blinking up at him.

_I remember you._

* * *

_Author's note: _I hope this makes sense, it did when I wrote it :3 Sorta took on a more angsty and depressing note with this one, but I hope you enjoyed it otherwise!


	4. Counting The Days

I hope that the whole bracelet that counts down until you meet your soulmate thing isn't _way_ too overused, but hope you enjoy!

* * *

Dean Winchester's bracelet had read -m.-d.-hr.-min.-sec. for as long as he could remember. After many trips to doctors and professionals, Dean was told it would be far too expensive for a family of _his _class (a.k.a; poor and usually broke) to get his bracelet fixed.

Dean was quick to except the fact that he was, indeed, broken.

He'd never find his 'soul mate' and would never settle down with the love of his life. After his father passed (alcohol poisoning... no surprise there), Dean had made the silent decision that he'd move in with his brother, Sam, find a job, and live his pitiful existence like that until he passed away in a fate probably similar to his father.

Dean had no plans to have a fulfilled life. He just wanted to get it over with.

That was, until one day his timer started to work.

It was no surprise that Sam had married before Dean. He met his soulmate at college, a sweet pretty girl named Jessica. They found a small city house and had invited Dean to live with them. Considering Dean had spent his life since high school in shitty apartments that he could barley afford, he was forced to take up the offer. He knew this was the way it was going to go anyways, right?

It had been a miracle that Dean found a job. With his little college experience and sloppy resume, Dean was eventually able to get a job offer at an elementary school. Sure it was as the repair guy/janitor, but it was better than nothing.

His forest green bracelet flashed the digits 0m.0d.1hr.47min.22sec the morning of his first day of work.

At first he hadn't even noticed. The stupid green bracelet wired in his wrist was just another reminder of his useless life, so it was usually ignored as much as possible. Dean saw the change when he was brushing his teeth. He nearly dropped his toothbrush when he realized that _yes_ those were not just dashes but real numbers. He swelled with excitement, a smile creeping onto his lips for the first time in ages. For the first time, there was hope.

Unless, this was some kind of sick joke or the bracelet just malfunctioned and...

No. This was another chance, another start. Not another joke. The bracelets _never _were wrong. _"Except for yours..."_ Dean couldn't stop himself from thinking.

Dean did his best to look collected when he waltzed into the kitchen. He had already been wearing his best for whole the first day gig, as in putting on a clean shirt and his best pair of jeans. With now having even more of reason to put effort into how he looked, Dean even styled his hair.

His unusual joy did not go unnoticed by his brother nor his wife.

"You excited for you job, Dean?" Sam asked as Dean grabbed his coffee mug out of the cupboard, sliding it under the nozzle of the coffee machine and waiting as the thick liquid dripped into the cup.

"Yup." Dean answered, giving his brother a cocky grin.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "And, uh, anything else?"

His cup filled and Dean removed it from the machine, taking a sip from his beverage. "Oh, nothing much." He shrugged before breaking his false calm exterior. "My bracelet's working, Sam."

First Sam looked doubtful, Jess even looked up from her papers she had been scribbling on to cock up an eyebrow. When they both realized Dean was being serious, they joined him in celebration.

"That's great, Dean!" Sam beamed, standing up to strangle his brother in a hug.

"So what does it say now, Dean?" Jess asked after the excitement died down.

Dean lifted his wrist and read off the digits. "0m.0d.0hr.25min.12sec... Shit I better get going." He scrambled away from the kitchen counter and rushed to get his jacket, shrugging it on before peaking his head back into the kitchen. "Wish me luck!"

His family gave their blessings and Dean was out the door.

He waited anxiously at the bus stop, nervously surveying anyone that walked up to the stop. _Could they be it? Could they? No, they don't look excited enough. Not them. Not- _His line of thought was interrupted when the bus pulled up, its doors opening like the gates to Heaven itself. Dean shoved his way into the bus, flashing his card to the driver before searching to find a seat.

His bracelet now read 11 minutes.

Dean found a seat in the far back so he could take note of the other people on the bus, seeing if any of them were the ones destined to put up with him for the rest of their lives. Searching to see if anyone looked nearly as nervous as he felt. Mostly there was just a bunch of elderly people lounging near the front, staring steadily at some point in the distance. No, none of these people were worthy suspects. It wasn't until a blond woman with bouncy curls and green eyes jumped into the bus that Dean felt his pulse speed up.

She was a near copy of what Dean had been; Eyes searching everywhere and everyone, an unerasable smile dancing on her lips. Every few seconds, her eyes would dart down to her bracelet. Dean sat up a little straighter, maintaining the excitement that was boiling up inside him. His heart dropped a little when she sat down in an empty seat about three rows in front of him. He glanced back down at his bracelet.

Six minutes.

Maybe she'd talk to him when they get off the bus? Yes, that had to be it.

His heart raced back to the speeding pace it had been before when the blond woman sprung up out of her seat at the same stop Dean was getting off at. She ran out of the bus, and Dean followed at a similar pace. The gears in his mind were working overtime, planning out exactly what he would say and when. By the time he jumped out of the bus and the doors closed behind him, his wrist read 5 seconds.

The woman from the bus was not hard to find, she paced around a bit, bouncing slightly on her heels. Dean slicked back his hair with his hand and walked forward.

_2 seconds..._

Now he was behind her, reaching a hand out to place on her shoulder.

_1..._

And that was the moment the blond woman let out a shrill sound of excitement, running forward and flinging herself into the arms of a man with long ashy brown hair.

_Oh..._

Dean froze, the bracelet now flashing back to the painfully usual -m.-hr.-min.-sec. It wasn't even at 0s, like it usually turned when you found your soulmate,

Of course. Of course this would happen! It was _his _life. Everything was either a sick joke or a false hope. His heart dropped down to his stomach after the women pecked a kiss onto the man's cheek.

Maybe he should cry. Or turn away. But Dean just felt numb. He must have looked ridiculous, just standing there in a comatose state. The world that had seemed so colorful that morning when he woke up now splashed back to the usual shades of grey. Dean knew he should go. He should move and get going before he was late to his first day of work, but he couldn't bring himself to pick up his feet.

The numb feeling shattered when a large mass ran into him, knocking Dean onto the sidewalk pavement. "Oh my god, I'm sorry!" A deep voice sounded above him.

"It's okay." Dean muttered under his breath, preparing himself to stand back up until a hand shot up.

"Here, let me help you."

Before Dean took the hand, he noticed the blue wristband screwed into the man's wrist.

The digits were at -m.-d.-h.-min.-sec.

Just like Dean's.

A flicker of hope, of belonging, shot through Dean as he took the stranger's hand, allowing him to help him up off the ground. After Dean brushed off his pants, he shot back out his hand for the man to shake. "I, uh, I'm Dean Winchester."

Blue eyes blinked back at him and a hand took Dean's once move, shaking it firmly. "Castiel Novak. Sorry for inconveniencing you."

"Oh no, you weren't-" Dean stopped himself, eyes grazing over the man, Castiel. He was just a few inches shorter than him and had a shadow of a stubble on his face. When he spoke, the skin under his bright eyes crinkled only slightly. Once their hands dropped back to their sides, Castiel ran a hand through his thick dark hair.

Dean hadn't even noticed that his own hand was rubbing the back of his neck. "I, uh, noticed your bracelet."

Castiel's face immediately grew more protected, his posture fixing itself. "It's always been like that. The doctor's can't fix it. It's just a processing error."

"Oh, I know. Trust me." Dean hesitated before showing Castiel his own wrist. "I thought I was the only one."

Castiel gazed in wonder at his bracelet, taking a step forward to examine it further. When he blinked back up at Dean, he flashed a smile. "So did I."

"I guess we can be processing errors together." Dean joked. "So where you going, Castiel?"

"Oh, the elementary school. I'm a teacher there."

"No shit." Dean's smile widened. "I'm the new janitor there!"

Castiel now shared Dean's beaming smile. "Well, I guess now I have an excuse to walk with you."

"I would have let you walk with me anyways." They started at a decent pace, Dean teasing before their journey to the school, "You can't get rid of me now, Cas."  
Castiiel answered him with a playful smile.


End file.
